My appliances are in cahoots and plotting ways to drive me mad.
For instance, I suspect my alarm clock – snatcher of dreams, night-buster, bringer of headaches – of outright lying to me.
I can’t go into a lot of detail here – I rely on the damn thing, after all, plus it reads my blog – other than to say that when the alarm goes off at 6:20 there are daily insinuations made by it, assurances of dreamy 10-minute “snoozes” that promise not to cut into my morning routine and to put me back into that dream-state I so enjoy.
This is a lie, of course. There is rarely such a thing as just one slap at the Snooze, anything and everything affects the morning routine, and another 10 minutes isn't going to affect anything.
Like many people, I, for reasons that vary from getting to bed late to the inability to fall and stay asleep, am vulnerable to the Snooze. (I also eat things guaranteed to be seen as nothing but non-nutritious seam-rippers; watch things on TV that call into question my evolution as both a human and a person; and sometimes speak in ways that would not bear close inspection by my parents, my man/boy, my husband, or my boss.)
As it is for many of us, I suspect.
And the early-morning bit, the lies the clock tells me? The lies I allow to ooze into my ears before I’ve attained full consciousness? I suspect that’s universal as well.
What? What’s that? You are immune to the insidious ways of the morning snooze? You awaken smelling of clean sheets and optimism, bound out of bed, flow through 10 Sun Salutations and then pop into the kitchen for whole grains and pulverized-fruit juices before heading off to work?
I envy you people, you for whom the alarm clock does not lie, you who awaken of your own accord. I haven't met you yet, but sources (and we’ll leave it at that: just “sources”) inform me that you’re out there.
The alarm clock may never be my friend – not unlike the fridge and the microwave (but then again I always knew I couldn’t trust those guys) – but for now, it’s a necessary evil, I suppose, and just trying to do what it’s told for as long as possible.
Everybody likes a little job security.
Unlike that iPod dock of mine, whose buttons sometimes work and sometimes don’t. I swear that little SOB is out to get me.
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